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Interpreting Similarities between Christian Doctrine and Pagan Mythology

justin_martyr_iconThis week I have been reading Justin Martyr’s First Apology. At one juncture he defends the legality of Christian doctrine by appealing to similar ideas espoused by pagans. He writes (XX-XXII):

“And the Sibyland Hystaspes said that there should be the dissolution by God of things corruptible. And the philosophers called Stoics teach that even God Himself shall be resolved into fire, and they say that the world is to be formed anew by this revolution; but we understand that God, the Creator of all things, is superior to the things that are to be changed. If, therefore, on some points we teach the same things as the poets and philosophers whom you honor, and on other points are fuller and more divine in our teaching, and if we alone afford proof of what we assert, why are we unjustly hated more than all others? For while we say that all things have been produced and arranged into a world by God, we shall seem to utter the doctrine of Plato; and while we say that there will be a burning up of all, we shall seem to utter the doctrine of the Stoics: and while we affirm that the souls of the wicked, being endowed with sensation even after death, are punished, and that those of the good being delivered from punishment spend a blessed existence, we shall seem to say the same things as the poets and philosophers; and while we maintain that men ought not to worship the works of their hands, we say the very things which have been said by the comic poet Menander, and other similar writers, for they have declared that the workman is greater than the work.

“And when we say also that the Word, who is the first-born of God, was produced without sexual union, and that He, Jesus Christ, our Teacher, was crucified and died, and rose again, and ascended into heaven, we propound nothing different from what you believe regarding those whom you esteem sons of Jupiter. For you know how many sons your esteemed writers ascribed to Jupiter: Mercury, the interpreting word and teacher of all; Æsculapius, who, though he was a great physician, was struck by a thunderbolt, and so ascended to heaven; and Bacchus too, after he had been torn limb from limb; and Hercules, when he had committed himself to the flames to escape his toils; and the sons of Leda, and Dioscuri; and Perseus, son of Danae; and Bellerophon, who, though sprung from mortals, rose to heaven on the horse Pegasus. For what shall I say of Ariadne, and those who, like her, have been declared to be set among the stars? And what of the emperors who die among yourselves, whom you deem worthy of deification, and in whose behalf you produce some one who swears he has seen the burning Caesar rise to heaven from the funeral pyre? And what kind of deeds are recorded of each of these reputed sons of Jupiter, it is needless to tell to those who already know. This only shall be said, that they are written for the advantage and encouragement of youthful scholars; for all reckon it an honorable thing to imitate the gods. But far be such a thought concerning the gods from every well-conditioned soul, as to believe that Jupiter himself, the governor and creator of all things, was both a parricide and the son of a parricide, and that being overcome by the love of base and shameful pleasures, he came in to Ganymede and those many women whom he had violated and that his sons did like actions. But, as we said above, wicked devils perpetrated these things. And we have learned that those only are deified who have lived near to God in holiness and virtue; and we believe that those who live wickedly and do not repent are punished in everlasting fire.

“Moreover, the Son of God called Jesus, even if only a man by ordinary generation, yet, on account of His wisdom, is worthy to be called the Son of God; for all writers call God the Father of men and gods. And if we assert that the Word of God was born of God in a peculiar manner, different from ordinary generation, let this, as said above, be no extraordinary thing to you, who say that Mercury is the angelic word of God. But if any one objects that He was crucified, in this also He is on a par with those reputed sons of Jupiter of yours, who suffered as we have now enumerated. For their sufferings at death are recorded to have been not all alike, but diverse; so that not even by the peculiarity of His sufferings does He seem to be inferior to them; but, on the contrary, as we promised in the preceding part of this discourse, we will now prove Him superior— or rather have already proved Him to be so—for the superior is revealed by His actions. And if we even affirm that He was born of a virgin, accept this in common with what you accept of Perseus. And in that we say that He made whole the lame, the paralytic, and those born blind, we seem to say what is very similar to the deeds said to have been done by Aesculapius.”

In our modern world apologist are quick to argue in the opposite direction, emphasizing the uniqueness of Christian doctrine over against pagan mythology. Some Christians seek to return to a purer, Jewish form of Christianity (as if Judaism was not influenced by Hellenism and Roman culture, or the early Israelites by the mythologies of Egypt, Canaan, Assyria, Babylon, or Persia), denouncing Christmas and Easter because of its “pagan roots”. I have family who participate in a Pentecostal sect that deny the doctrine of the Trinity for the same reasons.

Once the similarities between Christianity and pagan mythology, or Greek philosophy, or other world views was used to build a bridge. Some interpreted it as evidence that God had been working in the world. In Israel he worked through Moses, the Law, the prophets. In Greece he worked through Plato, Socrates, Aristotle. Today most Christians aim to connect their culture to the message of the Gospel at some point, while denouncing how past generations did the same thing.

6a00d834890c3553ef016760ccb1c4970b-320wiC.S. Lewis had an interesting interpretation of the similarities between Christian doctrine and pagan mythology. In his book The Weight of Glory (83-84) he wrote:

“What light is really thrown on the truth of falsehood of Christian Theology by the occurrence of similar ideas in Pagan religion? . . . Supposing, for purposes of argument, that Christianity is true; then it could avoid all coincidence with other religions only on the supposition that all other religions are one hundred percent erroneous . . . The truth is that the resemblances tell nothing either for or against the truth of Christian Theology. If you start from the assumption that the Theology is false, the resemblances are quite consistent with that assumption. One would expect creatures of the same sort, faced with the same universe, to make the same false guess more than once. But if you start with the assumption that the Theology is true, the resemblances fit in equally well. Theology, while saying that a special illumination has been vouchsafed to Christians and (earlier) to Jews, also says that there is some divine illumination vouchsafed to all men . . . We should, therefore, expect to find in the imagination of great Pagan teachers and myth makers some glimpse of that theme which we believe to be the very plot of the whole cosmic story — the theme of the incarnation, death, and re-birth. And the difference between the Pagan Christs (Balder, Osiris, etc.) and the Christ Himself is much what we should expect to find. The Pagan stories are all about someone dying and rising, either every year, or else nobody knows where and nobody knows when. The Christian story is about a historical personage, whose execution can be dated pretty accurately, under a named Roman magistrate, and with whom the society that He founded is in a continuous relation down to the present day. It is not the difference between falsehood and truth. It is the difference between a real event on the one hand and dim dreams or premonitions of that same event on the other.”

Alongside Justin Martyr and C.S. Lewis (and even the Apostle Paul as presented in Acts 17) the similarities between Christianity and pagan ideas doesn’t bother me all that much. Similarities do not prove or disprove the truthfulness of a claim. Other deities being born of virgins or resurrecting does not prove or disprove Christianity. I’m quite comfortable with the idea that the mythologies of our world include truth, truth that can be used by the Spirit to point people to Christ.

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Book Review: Lois Tverberg’s Walking in the Dust of Rabbi Jesus

Tverberg, Lois. Walking in the Dust of Rabbi Jesus: How the Jewish Words of Jesus Can Change Your Life (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2012). (Amazon.com)

9780310284208Lois Tverberg is the author of a recent book titled Walking in the Dust of Rabbi Jesus. She sent me a copy to review (for which I’d like to thank her) since this blog discusses topics related to Second Temple Judaism, Jesus, and early Christianity. It is more of a “user friendly” book than is reviewed here usually, but it is one that I think many of this blog’s readers may find valuable. 

Message of the Book

The aim of this book is quite simple: study the culture within which Jesus lived and his words and deeds will be given a new, enlightening nuance. I enjoy reading literature on this topic from a variety of people, whether it be N.T. Wright, E.P. Sanders, Amy-Jill Levine, Craig A. Evans, or a host of other authors who are experts on the historian’s Jesus. I know authors like Rob Bell, Ray Vander Laan, and to a different extent Kenneth E. Bailey have tried to include the discussion of scholars into their more popular literature (or like Wright, writing his own popular versions), but it is not common. Tverberg on the other hand as written one book already titled Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus and this is her second effort to help the “person in the pew” think about Jesus as a first-century Jew (though by no means does she remove the confessional/creedal affirmation about Jesus).

I admit that sometimes I am skeptical of these types of works. In an effort to talk about the historian’s Jesus there is the danger of anachronism, especially when it comes to the use of rabbinic sources, but even scholars can make the mistake of interpreting the historian’s Jesus through later works, so I read this book with a graceful eye knowing that the historian’s Jesus is a difficult character to grasp, especially when you come from a confessional background of one sort or another, and even when you do not come to the study having thought of Jesus in terms like “the second person of the Trinity”.

I should qualify that though this book does aim to revive the Jewishness of Jesus for the reader it is not strictly a work of history. Rather, it does engage in the reception history of rabbinic and Christian traditions, it is devotional, and it does include stories and examples that give contemporary meaning to living as a Christian in our modern world. Personally, I think it is a very useful book for something like a small group study at your local church with people who may never have the opportunity to read much about the historical studies surrounding Jesus of Nazareth.

Summary of the Content

The title of this book is based on a saying from Mishnah, Avot 1:4. Yose ben Yoeser is a second rabbinical figure of the second century BCE who is quoted here as having said that a disciple should “powder yourself with the dust of their feet”, “their” being that of one’s teacher.[1] The idea is that one should sit at the feet of their teacher or follow their teacher so closely that the dust that kick off his feet cover them. If this saying is nearly as old as it is attributed then Jesus’ disciples may have heard something like it and it may have had it in mind as they followed Jesus. This is the picture of discipleship Tverberg aims to present.

The book divides into three sections: I. Hearing Our Rabbi’s Words with New Ears; II. Living Out the Words of Rabbi Jesus; and III. Studying the Word with Rabbi Jesus.

In section I there are four chapters. Chapter 1: Brushing Away the Dust of the Ages is introductory. Tverberg talks a bit about how Gentile Christians have thought of Jesus as a Savior, as have Jewish Christians, but there was a sense among Jewish Christians that Jesus was their “rabbi” or “teacher” as well, something lost on many Gentile Christians.[2] This may be true, in part, when one examines contemporary Christianity, but I don’t know that the Patristic writings would deny the necessity of following the example of Jesus, even if not described in Jewish terminology like halakhah. It is a contemporary evangelical audience to whom Tverberg writes though and what she says about following Jesus’ example is true of many.

Tverberg does Christians a great service by making known to a popular audience some of the ideas circulating since E.P. Sanders’ Jesus and Palestinian Judaism forced scholars to rethink their language about first century Jews as legalistic and superstitious people who Jesus had to enlighten. Rather, Jesus was very much a Jew of his day engaged in the discussions being debated at that time. In many ways Jesus was unique in his teaching, but there is a lot of what Jesus said and did that is far from original with his person. I think this is good for lay audiences to know.

Tverberg presents her sources in this chapter: the Mishnah, the Talmud, the Dead Sea Scrolls, the writings of Josephus, and the Gospels. She clarifies that she doesn’t mean to limit Jesus to the status of a mere rabbi. Instead, she wants to highlight that part of his reality as a teacher who called disciples. She wants to remind Christians that our religion was once called “the Way” or “the Path” based on the Hebraic concept of following a derekh and that Jesus talk his disciples how to “walk” in his way, or halakah.[3]

The remainder of section I examines Jesus’ teaching that the most important commandments in the Law are to (1) love the Lord your God with all your heart…. And (2) the one like it, love your neighbor as yourself (see Mt. 12:28-31). Tverberg admits that she was surprised as a younger Christian to find that Jesus’ words came from the heart of the Law, Leviticus and Deuteronomy, “two books I had read the least.”[4]

In Chapter 2: Shema: Living Out What You Hear she begins to delve into the Jewish Shema beginning with this word meaning something like “to hear with the intent to obey”. She ties this into Jesus’ words, “Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear.” Then she discusses the meaning of the word echad, often translated “one” (which has caused much debate between Jews and Christians over doctrines like the incarnation and Trinty), but she advocates the use of “alone” as in this God was Israel’s God “alone”. This frames it as a command to fidelity more than a mere creedal statement for monotheism.

In Chapter 3: Loving God with Everything You’ve Got Tverberg continues to explore the Shema asking how God could command “love”. She argues that “love” is not a mere emotion here, but a covenantal agreement of sorts, like the word hesed, which is discussed in this chapter as well. When this chapter ends the reader will have gone through a fairly extensive word study on the Shema with an aim for understanding how this may have impacted Jesus and his teachings and how it should impact our contemporary discipleship.

In Chapter 4: Meeting Myself Next Door Tverberg moves to the second commandment about loving one’s neighbor. She provides a helpful discussion on how important this teaching was for the early church. Then she moves to studying Leviticus 19:18 and its context which is a reminder that Israel was once slaves in a foreign land, therefore treat foreign guests with kindness. This introduces the debate in Jesus’ day over the meaning of “neighbor”, provides a context for Jesus’ story about the Samaritan, and asks how all of this fits into Jesus’ words in his prayer for God to forgive us and we forgive others.

Section II begins with Chapter 5: Gaining a Good Eye which examines Jesus’ words in Matthew 6:22-23 about the eye being filled with darkness or light. She argues that this saying is idiomatic meaning that having a “good eye” means to look out for others, especially the poor while having a “bad eye” means being selfish.[5] The remainder of the chapter examines Jesus’ teachings on charity and giving.

Chapter 6: The Mystery of the Name attempts to unpack the meaning of a “name” in the ancient world, e.g. when disciples baptized or did exorcisms “in the name of Jesus”. Tverberg introduces readers to the idiomatic expression’s relevance for presenting the authority of another. She discusses the lexical meaning of Jesus’ name, what coming in someone’s name meant, the idiom “in the name of a prophet…”, the “hallowing” of the name of God in the Lord’s Prayer, and what it means to profane a name (e.g., taking the “name” of the Lord in vain).

Chapter 7: How to Have a Kosher Mouth begins with a discussion on the role of the tongue on books like Proverbs and James and then delves into the ethics of speech: avoiding an evil tongue, slander, shaming others, and a variety of topics that include showing other dignity and not abusing them with one’s speech.

Chapter 8: Taking My Thumb Off the Scale includes a very relevant discussion on Jesus’ words about judging, especially when contrasted with Paul’s decision to tell the Corinthians to toss a member from their assembly. What does Jesus mean by “judgment” and how does our modern language around “judging others” skew our reading of the text? Tverberg guides the reader into thinking about this from a Jewish perspective, asking how anger and insults play into Jesus’ words as well as the picture of a scale being used at the local marketplace.

Chapter 9: Praying with Chutzpah argues that Jesus depicts God as appreciating someone with chutzpah or “utter nerve, sheer audacity that borders on obnoxiousness.”[6] She examines the story of the Syrophoenician woman (Mt. 15:21-28; Ml 7:25-30); Jesus’ parable about the unrighteous judge in Luke 18:2-5; the parable about the man who has unexpected guest from out of town in Luke 11:5-8; and Jesus’ words about “good gifts” in Matthew 7:9-11. She grounds this Jewish appreciation for chutzpah in Abraham, the father of the Jews (see Gen 18:23-25), and Moses (see Ex. 5:22-23). The chapter ends with some words on prayer, especially prayer for others.

Tverberg ends section II with Chapter 10: Thinking with Both Hands examines the Jewish tradition of shakla v’tarya, or “give and take”, where one person—like Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof examining the tradition of a “match maker”—wrestles with a dilemma arguing internally for both sides. This approach to reality is found everywhere within Scripture—sometimes seen through western eyes as contradictions. One could think of Paul’s words on justification juxtaposed with James’ words on justification. Also, Jesus’ paradoxical words about “first” being “last” and “last” being “first” or losing life gains it and gaining life loses it. What would be contradictions to some are balanced views of the world in Scripture.

Tverberg transitions to a discussion on how some Laws—though all seen as having a divine origin—are seen as weightier than others. In this chapter she does a fine job of snuffing the tradition that Jews were panicky legalist seeking to avoid hell to gain heaven. She writes, “Contrary to our traditional Christian assumption, their discussions about the Law do not arise out of an anxious striving to earn one’s way to heaven. Jewish thought generally assumed that Jews were already saved, because God graciously chose Israel as his people. In their minds, the Law teaches them how to live in a way that pleases a loving God and upholds their covenantal relationship.”[7]

This invitation to “weigh laws” explains Jesus’ debates with the Pharisees over things like Sabbath far better than the old “legalism v. grace” paradigm. I think this may be one of the most valuable chapters for Christians who are used to this sort of approach to the Judaism of Jesus’ day. As much as scholarship has seen a paradigm shift it has taken a while for these ideas to “trickle down” to the church. Tverberg’s book as a more popular work can help bridge the gap.

The final section focuses the last four chapters on reading Scripture. Chapter 11: The Treasure of the Text reminds Christian readers that the Old Testament matters and that it is “floating” right below the surface of the text of the New Testament. Tverberg writes, “As Christians, we long to think the thoughts of Christ. But the stories he knew, the songs he sang, and the prophecies that shaped his earthly mission lie in the Old Testament.”[8]

The familiarity with Scripture reflected in the New Testament is attributed to the importance of reading Torah in the synagogue and the command for Jews to meditate and know the words of Scripture. Tverberg discusses parasha and haftarah readings (almost liturgical) and how this dedication to reading the text changed people.

Chapter 12: The Secret That God Keeps argues that the Jewish tradition has been aware that one can study Scripture their entire life and never know it all, or capture it, or find all the answers. This isn’t the goal of reading. Tverberg discusses God’s secrets in Daniel 12:8-9 and how this shapes the words of Acts 1:6-7 and Mark 13:32. The chapter includes sections on Messiah (Jesus) as interpreter of Torah, the ignorance of Job’s friends, and caution when studying eschatology.

Chapter 13: Our Longing Father challenges Marcionite thinking that denies (whether implicitly or explicitly) that the God of Israel in the Old Testament is the Father of Jesus in the New Testament. Tverberg emphasizes the God shown to us by Jesus as being a God of emotion and feeling, not an unmoved mover, but a real “personal” deity as seen in the Parable of the Prodigal Son. She examines a variety of Old Testament texts that speak of God in the same way, as loving, gracious, patient, caring. She presents the God of Jesus as being one who is not indifferent, or an “unmoved mover”, but a God who loves, actively.

Chapter 14: God’s Image Stamped in Dust is the final chapter of the book. It is a study of the imago Dei concept from Genesis 1:26-27 and how that fits into Jewish thinking and the teachings of Jesus.

At the end of each chapter there are a series of discussion questions under the titled “Wisdom for the Walk”. The book has a forward by Ray Vander Laan and an afterword from Ann Spangler. The book uses endnotes, at the end of the book, not the chapter. Finally, there is a glossary of terms and recommended resources for further reading that include respected authors such as Kenneth E. Bailey, Craig A. Evans, Abraham Heschel, and Brad Young as well as various online resources.

Concluding Thoughts

This book would be a great resource for small group leaders or the Sunday school class of a local church. I think Lois Tverberg has a lot of helpful points to make that evangelicals ought to hear and she puts it in the type of readable format that allows her to gain an audience. It is an enjoyable read. It is applicable. It is pastoral. It is informative. I learned from it and I imagine others will as well.

[1] 201, n. 24

[2] 21

[3] 27-29

[4] 33

[5] 70

[6] 118

[7] 137

[8] 146


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A Few Reasons I am No Longer a Oneness Pentecostal

Shortly after my conversion to Christ in 2002 in the charismatic movement of the Catholic church, I became affiliated with the United Pentecostal Church International (UPCI), a Oneness Pentecostal group that broke away from the Assemblies of God over the New Issue of baptism, which ultimately led to the denial of the doctrine of the Trinity and the upholding of Acts 2:38 as the plan of salvation. In 2003, I officially became part of a UPCI church and started my journey toward knowing more fully Christ. I earned a degree at one of the UPCI-endorsed Bible colleges. I appreciate all that took place in that time—the friends I made and the spiritual and academic foundation that was laid—and how I grew in grace in that time period.

Now, eight years since I became a Christian and toward the end of my MA degree from a well-respected seminary, I am no longer a Oneness Pentecostal. Some have attributed this change to my going to seminary. This is certainly not the case, although seminary has played a role in helping me to broaden my understanding of Christianity, both past and present. Contrary to these claims, a few reasons that I left the UPCI, which I shall briefly detail below, are the result of personal study and long reflection on church history, experience, and Scripture. Seminary gave me the tools and the freedom to study for myself, but it did not make those decisions for me. What follows is, of course, not an exhaustive set of reasons for why I am not a Oneness Pentecostal anymore.

My interest in church history spans the apostolic period to the Chalcedon council. Part of the problem I ran into as a Oneness Pentecostal was the ecumenical declarations against the Oneness doctrine I held. For example, modalism had been condemned. Now, even though I did not hold to a Sabellian-type modalism, the modalism to which I did hold had already been written against by the ante-Nicene Fathers. In short, however the Fathers were describing the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, it looked nothing like the Oneness view in its various flavors.

In addition to other things, Oneness Pentecostals believe that one must receive the gift of the Holy Spirit, evidenced by speaking in tongues, to be saved. Those Oneness people that I know had a pre-set formula to “pray someone through” to receive the Holy Spirit. Someone would coach the Holy Spirit seeker with a formula that went something like this: (1) pray that God would forgive you; (2) now that He has forgiven you, rejoice and praise God; (3) keep praising God until the feeling begins to overflow within you; (4) as soon as the overflow begins to reach your mouth, let your tongue go. If all of those steps are done correctly, then one will speak in tongues. Most of the time, however, it takes many tries with this formula for the speaker to finally speak in tongues. I am not one to cast doubt on the legitimacy of whether a person speaks in tongues using the formula; I believe that many have. This formula, however, is at odds with my experience (and the experience of the hundreds of others that same day), where I did not need to be coached. When I spoke in tongues for the first time, all I did was stood up and praised God, and He gave me the utterance to speak in other tongues—no coaching, no formula, and no waiting around. What most Oneness Pentecostals would find odd is that I first spoke in tongues at a charismatic Catholic service. To attest to the validity of the work of the Spirit in me that day, I was delivered the day I spoke in tongues from my use of crystal methamphetamines and I worked in the gift of discerning of spirits the very next day.

I believe that speaking in tongues is a good thing. However, I do not believe that if someone has never spoken in tongues then he or she is not saved. Instead, I concur with the major theme of the New Testament that a person who genuinely is filled with and walks in the Spirit is one who loves both God and neighbor. Among those whom I know, there seem to be more who have not spoken in tongues and yet are overcoming sin and exhibiting true, godly love compared to Oneness people I know who have spoken in tongues.

My third point of departure with the Oneness group came through a study of Scripture. While I was at Bible college, I learned of ways to sidestep Scripture passages that dealt with the Son’s preexistence, with the interaction between the Father and the Son, as well as sidestep the language that clearly showed the Holy Spirit as distinct from both the Father and the Son. As I reflect back, I could see that my theology professor’s view of Oneness theology borrowed from much of Trinitarian theology while seemingly presenting these theological nuances as exclusive to Oneness. Although he meant well and sought to further develop Oneness theology, the adoption of ideas from and the lack of proper teaching on Trinitarian theology seems to indicate that even he knew the truth that Trinitarian theology upheld. Even though I have always admired Oneness Pentecostals for their devotion to the oneness of God, such devotion is misguided when it does not line up with Scripture and has been rejected by the ecumenical councils that have defined the Trinitarian position from both Scripture and the broad teaching of the church in the early centuries.

I harbor no ill feelings toward the Oneness Pentecostal movement. Many of my close friends still today are Oneness Pentecostals. I have gratitude for the spiritual tenacity that the Oneness movement possesses because it was at a Oneness Bible college and church that I learned to draw closer to God. Yet, I cannot be a part of a movement that sets itself up having a monopoly on the nature of God, on holiness standards, and on salvation. I am afraid that because the Oneness movement has pushed itself away from the broader church and relies upon its own private Scriptural insights that it has missed the fact that God has called and saved a universal church larger than the Oneness movement to be holy and conformed to the image of the Son.


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Miroslav Volf on whether or not Christians and Muslims worship the same God

Miroslav Volf

Last week Ekaputra Tupamahu notified me of an article by Miroslav Volf titled “Do Christians and Muslims Worship the Same God?” (Read here) He wanted to know my thoughts on the matter, especially since over a year ago we had a lively discussion on this very subject (see here, here, and here). One thing that I have noticed about myself is that I have become more and more comfortable with ambiguity. While I think this discussion is worth having because it does have implications, I don’t know if I am willing to make a definitive statement on a subject like whether or not two monotheistic religions worship the same God in any meaningful sense.

Volf’s article preludes his new book Allah: A Christian Response. I assume that Volf would affirm that Christians and Muslims worship the same God. In this article he notes that (1) Christianity and Islam are the two fastest growing religions globally. (2) Globalization will cause there to be an interconnectedness between them. (3) The Muslim and Christian understanding of what it means to live life will come together in the public square and there will be tensions.

For Volf we must ask whether or not we can begin some sort of dialog as monotheistic religions because we believe in the same God to some extent. He implies that if we say we do not share the same God that we “have justification for cultural and military wars”, but if we do share the same God we “have a foundation for a shared future marked by peace rather than violence”.

As I ponder this subject there are some things that come to mind. First, I don’t think Volf’s conclusion is correct. Christians have gone to war with each other. Sunni and Shiite Muslims are often in violent conflict. As much as I would like it to be true that some shared vision of God will result in peacefulness between two groups this simply has not proven to be true over history. Maybe Volf provides further reasons to assume this in his book, but I am going with what he wrote in this article. At this juncture I don’t think it is wise to make these types of theological statements based of perceived pragmatic consequences, especially if the consequences are not likely.

Second, whenever we speak of the “same God” there is so much nuance here. Is “God” determined by categories of theological talk that we share? Even if two people share the same religion there can be two radically different views of God present. Could it be that there is a “Christian” whose view of God radically departs from general monotheism (a pantheistic or panentheistic god, for example) in such a way that a more traditional Christian theist would find more common ground with a Muslim? Also, we must ask what active role God has in revealing himself to people and if God’s activity determines who knows and worships him. Does it really matter what we say about God or what God says about us?

Third, do we worship the same God if there are some similarities but not many? Yes, Christians and Muslims worship one God. Yes, Christians and Muslims see their story as going back toward Abraham. But Christians see God as Trinity, and we believe the eternal Logos has become a human, and we believe that this human is incorporated into what it means for God to be God because of the incarnation. Are these aspects of God or are these things central to what it means to understand who God has revealed himself to be? In other words, do we see the singularity of God as the most basic reality of his nature to the point that Christians, Muslims, Jews, Platonist, Aristotilians, theistic Buddhist, Hindus who believe that the many manifestations of deity come from a singular divine source, and any other form of monotheism as being basically the same? We must think seriously about this.

Fourth, do we make a mistake by speaking too broadly on this subject? Is it a case-by-case basis? Scripture does indicate there has been people who are not part of the common, easily identified “people of God”, yet who knew God (e.g. Melchizedek, Job). What does this mean for people of other religions? Can we know and do we have any right to speculate?

Finally, even if we share belief in one God, what does it mean to worship that God? In Jn. 4.1-26 we have Jesus sharing monotheistic beliefs with the Samaritan woman, but saying, in essence, the Jews have it right doctrinally and there would come a day when both Jew and Samaritan would need to worship in “S/spirit and in truth”. What about Israel in Romans 9-11? They have zeal for God yet Paul saw his own people as apostate because they reject Messiah. Can we say that these Jews “worshiped” God, but that worship was not enough? Does this at least allow us to begin dialog if we think Muslims do the same thing? Similarly, in Acts 17. 16-34 Paul says that the Athenians did worship the God whom they did not know (and he even uses one of their idols to make this point!), but that this was not sufficient because God now demands that people know him through the man through whom he will judge the world, the resurrected Christ. These passages may be sufficient for us to say that some non-Christians do worship the true God, but they also indicate worship alone is not sufficient for salvation.

In response it appears that I have asked many questions without giving any answers. I’d be interested to hear what others think of Volf’s statements and the questions that it raised for me.


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Introducing Intercultural Theology

I am excited to announce that my friends and fellow bloggers Rodney Thomas and Celucien Joseph have launched a new blog project called “Intercultural Theology: Theological Education and Cultural Inclusion”. This blog will attempt to address the marginalization of minorities in mainstream and evangelical Christian education institutions (e.g. seminaries; universities). Rodney writes,

“I suspect those in evangelical and mainline seminary who are racial minorities are marginalized not only by the sheer lack of numbers population-wise in those circles but also when it comes to Euro-centric pedagogies, theological textbooks, and cultural assumptions of staff and faculty, the experience at times can be hurtful.  This is a project longtime in the making but we feel that it  is the right time for it, for an intelligent discussion on race relations and theological education.”

I think this is a worthwhile endeavor and it will hopefully also address gender exclusion, and other forms of exclusion, that are both conscious and subconscious amongst us. Too often we hide behind so-called “doctrinal fidelity” in order to prevent the other from coming into our midst. My assumption is that most of the time, if we think about it, doctrine is hardly the heart of the matter. So bookmark this blog, hear the stories, and contribute your own. It is time we discuss this serious matter openly and this can become just the place to do it!


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Reformed Bitterness

In my short life time I have known many people who have gone through difficult, dehumanizing, demoralizing events. These people should be given the room to talk about their experiences in order to heal. When you see progress it is very uplifting. Likewise, when someone reverts back into a cycle of bitterness and a victim’s mentality about life it can be disheartening.

I must say to some of my Reformed brothers and sisters that when I read what you write about Catholics, Orthodox, and even some fellow evangelicals (e.g. Arminians) that don’t share your view on secondary issues, you sound similar to these types of people. It is as if the Council of Trent concluded yesterday. Listen, you have the right to disagree with Rome on this or that. You have the right to say Azusa was misleading this way and that way. That being said, stop whining!

If predestination is stronger than Arminians and “soft” Calvinist make it so be it. God is the one who does the saving work, right? If the Pope is misleading people you have the right to say where but stop acting like all Catholics are beast. It only makes you look sad and small. I believe you can do better.


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“Separated Brethren”: Welcoming or Condescending?

Pope Paul VI: presided over the latter half of Vatican II

At Vatican II Roman Catholicism changed the status of Protestants from “heretics” to “separated brethren”. This was intended to be an ecumenical act. It was a means of reopening dialog between Catholics and Protestants likely in the hope (of most Catholics) that the Protestants would eventually be “welcomed” back to Rome.

For many Protestants this is not satisfying because for the most part Catholicism speaks of itself as the “true church”. We see similar language amongst Eastern/Greek/Russian Orthodox types where there is a willingness to call the rest of us “Christian” but maybe second class.

As a former Oneness Pentecostal it does not surprise me when I hear Oneness Pentecostals condemn the rest of us Christians to hell. They have been taught and teach that they are the “remnant”. Nevertheless, there are many (especially younger) ones who want to revive the old “Second Blessing” language of Pentecostalism in order to include the rest of Christendom that has not spoken in tongues (or amongst Oneness Pentecostals who have not baptized “in the name of Jesus” according to the language of Acts 2.38 or even further for some who demand “holiness standards” of “true” Christians) in the mix as still “Christians” but somehow second level, second class, lesser Christians. They don’t want Lutherans or Methodist to be “lost” but they don’t want to let them be equal either.

When I hear some friends who are Oneness Pentecostals speak as if the rest of us are “separated brethren” I known they mean well. They are trying to find a reason to keep us out of hell. Like the language of Vatican II–that does seem to have worked in reviving conversations between Catholics and Protestants–so this language does seem to create an opportunity to at least talk to some Oneness Pentecostals knowing they haven’t condemned us to hell.

On the other hand, I find it somewhat condescending. It is still a bit discomforting to know you are talking to a Christian who thinks you are a “Christian”. It may be as bad as being told you are essentially “lost”.

How do you feel about this? As a Protestant do you appreciate the effort of Vatican II or do you see it as still being a negative assessment of your faith? Or as a Catholic amongst Protestants are you OK with Protestants talking about you like you are a Christian with a few kinks to work out? Maybe some “liberal” Protestant feel this way about evangelicals? Do you mind being considered a “second class Christian” or is this as bad as not being considered a Christian at all?